Chapter Four | Part One
One Month Earlier
Sleepy brown eyes open slowly, nearly widening at the sight of the man asleep next to her.
Bits and pieces from the night come back to her in a blur before her face heats up at the realization that they're both very much naked.
She's got the soft duvet from his bed covering her, she glances at him and blushes, looking away immediately before gently putting a good bit of covers over him.
She doesn't want to wake him or disturb him, their day yesterday having been exhausting.
He needed the rest.
Brown eyes carefully study the sleeping features of the infamous Coriolanus Snow.
He doesn't seem as stoic or iron-fisted when he sleeps, not as impatient or dismissive.
Though she had learned through the weekend that he wasn't always so stoic.
In fact, the motivation for her kissing him in the first place was the wide grin on his plush lips, it made the corners of his icy blue eyes crinkle, and the laugh that followed…she had kissed him first, but he'd chased after her lips when she went to pull away.
It's how they ended up in the floor the morning before, tangled up, spent, and hungover.
But yesterday evening there were no drinks to blame their actions on, nor coax him to grin and smile and laugh as he had when he was drunk.
No, all his smiles and chuckles were a result of her.
Part of her didn't expect him to even enjoy sex.
He always came across too strict to find pleasure in anything other than giving her headaches over work.
She learned quickly that liquor wasn't the only thing that made him grin or laugh.
Her fingertips run along the heavy gold of his wedding band where it rests on his finger, she's sure the shape of it is probably indented into her skin on her throat or her thighs from where he gripped onto her while she pleaded with him.
One moment she would beg for him to stop, that it was too much, then the next she was begging him not to stop, that it was so good.
And it was.
Part of her is tempted to ask him where he learned how to fuck, because she couldn't imagine any hoity toity Capitol big-shots doing the things he did — not even her husband did the things he did.
She didn't even know if Dyess knew how to do some of those things.
Coriolanus Snow was excellent at disguising his filth, she knew that, now, and had added it to the mental list of things he was good at.
Those sharp clothes and styled curls, scent of roses following after him, perfect etiquette and manners, composure…it was all thrown aside, replaced with a greedy man that enjoyed watching desperate and hungry tears stream across her face as he finished himself down her throat, a lazy smile painting his relaxed features at the feeling, long fingers pulling from her hair while he hoarsely whispered, "Good girl," before eyeing her like his prey and returning the favor, devouring her until she saw stars.
That was something else that took Tawny by surprise.
He enjoyed her enjoyment.
It was surely all a rush for his ego, a boost of confidence, to see the sparkle of her big diamond wedding ring — the physical embodiment of her commitment and loyalty to Dyess Crane — as she wrapped her fingers around Coriolanus' length, or touched herself whilst wantonly moaning out his name.
His eyes would light up upon the little noises that would escape her throat, every little tremor that would run up her spine, every sharp intake of breath, every whimper and whine, every tear.
He would taunt her, "does that feel good?" to which she would nod fervently, unable to form words, too fucked out on the harsh and deep strokes he knew would have her wailing like a bitch in heat, while he drank up the sight of her.
Asleep, he's a different man.
A peaceful man.
The peace is interrupted by the abrupt ring of the telephone on the nightstand next to her.
He awakens with a heavy breath, eyes still shut as he reaches over her and fumbles for the phone before he answers, "Snow residence."
She can tell by the expression on his face and the girly voice she can hear every now and then that it's his wife.
If she had any sense she would take it as her queue to slither from under him, get out of the bed, and start getting dressed.
Instead she selfishly takes advantage of his exposed neck, pressing her lips to the skin there.
"Okay, darling, that's alright." He assures Livia sweetly, keeping his thoughts as narrow as possible.
She talks a moment more.
"I can't wait to see them." He says, next, falling back to the mattress in an attempt to shake Tawny off of him.
She is now just the woman he sees when he's bored.
"Okay, I'll see you tonight. I love you, too." He says it softly, sweetly.
Tawny nearly smiles at the words, sounding so innocent from him.
"Bye, darling." He finishes.
He hands Tawny the phone, a single finger over his lips, telling her to keep quiet, and she reaches over and puts the phone back on the hook.
"Don't do that again." He states, referring to her kissing him while he was on the phone with his wife.
"Do you really love her?" It's not sarcastic or smug, nothing used as a way of bragging about their predicament.
He knows her intent isn't to ask, "if you truly loved her, you wouldn't be here with me, right?"
She's genuinely asking him if he loves his wife.
"As best I can, I suppose." He replies, honestly, watching as she scoots closer to him, reaching for his hands. "What about you? Do you love Dyess?"
"As best I can, I suppose." She mirrors his answer, understanding what he means. "Next month is our anniversary. Fourteen years."
His brows sink slightly realizing an insignificant commonality between them.
"I got married at twenty, too." He mumbles.
"Yeah?" She smiles at the thought of a younger Snow, bright eyed and bushy-tailed, marrying Livia Cardew with the hope of a successful marriage. "I wish I wouldn't have married that young." She confesses, twisting his wedding band around his finger.
"Why do you say that?"
He didn't mind getting married as young as he did — he knew some people married a lot younger than that, especially in the districts.
Twenty was a good age for him to find a partner and settle down.
It helped to mature him to his peers, make him look like he had things more put together and in line.
"We got married because I got pregnant." She whispers, gauging his reaction.
He doesn't have much of one to express other than a casual, "Oh."
A few days ago he might've been somewhat surprised by the scandal, especially since she's Dr. Gaul's niece and should have had a clean record of responsible decisions, but all his mind can think of is her on top of him, his hands having groped her bouncing chest as she begged him to finish in her, deliberately tightening around him to the point he almost couldn't move in her.
He had nearly thrown her off of him, scolding her for being so reckless, that neither of them could afford to get caught.
No, her confession doesn't surprise him in the least.
"What happened?" He asks it, now, unaware that she had a child to begin with.
He had never heard her talk about it.
There weren't any family pictures or scribbled drawings created by little hands, hanging proudly in her office like many of their colleagues with children…though, he supposes, this child she speaks of is thirteen by now.
That might explain the lack of elementary scribbles pasted in her office.
He can see reality settling on her features, dropping his hand and sitting up as she murmurs, "I better go."
It was clear she wanted to avoid that conversation, so he let it be, watching as she sits up, turning to look at him over her shoulder.
"Can you not look?" She asks him shyly.
It almost makes him laugh, but he closes his eyes, giving her time to gather her clothes and step to the bathroom.
Once she gets out, she's dressed in her work clothes she wore to meet him on Friday.
It's Sunday now.
He tugs his pants on, quickly following after her as she heads for the front door, pulling her heels on.
"Dr. Crane," He stops her, grabbing her hand, "I wouldn't want this to interfere with either of our future opportunities…"
"…I won't tell a soul." She whispers it surely, preferring not to let anyone know she's in Coriolanus Snow's pocket when she's not in her husband's. "I promise." It's added gently, earning a nod from him as he drops her hand. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, Mr. Snow."
Dr. Crane.
Mr. Snow .
It feels somewhat forbidden to address one another so professionally after spending the weekend together as they have.
But it also acts as a reassurance that things won't change between them.
"See you tomorrow."
Livia Snow now fumbles with her diamond bracelet wrapped around her wrist, awaiting the door to be answered as she, her husband, and his cousin, Tigris, stand patiently.
"How long does it take to answer a door?" He mumbles, glancing at his watch.
"You wanted to arrive almost thirty minutes early, Coriolanus, so you need to be nice and understand that they might be a bit busy at the moment." Tigris says calmly, nudging him gently with her elbow before politely knocking again.
"Coming!" Tawny shoves the triangle shaped diamond the size of a quarter into her ear, heels clicking on the dark marbled floor.
The door swings open, her darkly lined eyes widening as she wishes she would have looked through the peephole beforehand.
She had fully expected the Plinths to arrive thirty minutes early, not the Snows.
"Sorry, we're a bit early, Dr. Crane." Tigris apologizes, glancing over Tawny's attire for the evening with shimmering eyes of adoration.
Coriolanus has to keep himself from also glancing over it, instead extending the gift Livia had preferred for him to carry while she carried the crystal vase of lush white roses.
"These are for you and Dr. Crane." Snow pipes.
"Thank you so much. You didn't have to do that." She says truthfully, her hand that's covered by a silkie black glove that goes above her elbow, reaches out and accepts the gift and the flowers, stepping aside to let them in as she pipes, "Please, come in. Dinner is not yet ready, but Dyess is in the parlor swimming in dark liquor with my father while I'm hiding from my mother. So, feel free to also do either one of those." She adds quietly, earning a small snicker from Livia until Tawny turns her back to them, in which Snow's wife then shoots Coriolanus a look that screams, "what have we gotten ourselves into?"
Following his cousin's advice, it's now him that's giving his wife a, "be nice," look, glancing around the apartment.
He'd only been once, when Dyess was away.
He locks those memories away to avoid making himself miserable.
"Do you need help with anything, Dr. Crane?" Tigris offers, to which Tawny replies, "Please, Tigris, it's Tawny — and no, thank you."
It's when Livia is looking over Tawny's collection of finely painted porcelain plates on display in the hutch right outside her parlor that Coriolanus steals a glance over at Tawny.
Dark, waved hair parted more to the side than usual, the thinner side of the part pinned behind her ear to show off the big diamond Dyess had bought her.
Her top was strapless, fitted around her chest and slightly more flowy along her abdomen, stopping above her hips before pants of the same material kept her covered down to her heeled feet.
She feels his eyes on her, looking at him in a moment of lost resolve before she's turning her back to him to grab the wine glasses from the cupboard, showing the smooth skin of exposed shoulder blades, and top half of her spine.
Tigris notices him noticing Tawny, and he looks at his cousin and immediately turns back to his wife who hasn't any idea the exchange had taken place.
Furrowing blonde brows, Tigris glances once more at Tawny, then back to Coriolanus who's now whispering with Livia.
"Tawny?!" Her mother's voice echos in the apartment, Coriolanus and Livia looking in the direction of her voice.
"Yes, mother?" Tawny's voice stresses the word passive aggressively as she ducks behind Tigris' tall frame.
"Are the Plinths here?!"
"No, mother, not yet!" Tawny shouts back, irritation getting the best of her.
"Tawny, don't shout at your mother!" Dyess loudly scolds her.
"Why don't you just stay in the parlor and keep throwing them back, dear?!" She hollers back.
Livia's eyes bulge at their bickering in front of company before Dyess is nearly running into her, barreling out of the parlor, whiskey in hand.
The expression on his face lets their company know that he hadn't realized they'd come in.
Immediately his frustrated look fades to a smile, extending his hand to Livia as he pipes, "Dr. Snow, it's good to see you."
"You, too, Dr. Crane, thank you for inviting us." She politely replies, Dyess' dark blue hues twitching every slightly, confirming to Coriolanus that he didn't invite them.
Tawny had thought that up all on her own – and judging by their fighting, he isn't happy they were invited…he isn't happy Coriolanus was invited, in particular, he can see that when Dyess looks at him and grits out, "Mr. Snow."
"Dr. Crane."
Perhaps a handshake would be appropriate, polite…but it doesn't occur from either man.
"Would you like a drink?" He asks.
"No, not tonight, thank you." Snow says, smiling tightly. "I wouldn't particularly enjoy being sloppy and embarrassing my wife."
Anyone else would take it as Coriolanus making a joke about himself being a cheap drunk, but Dyess knows he meant it as a dig toward him.
"That's a wise thought." A man who looks identical to Dr. Gaul breaks their interaction, outstretching his hand to Coriolanus. "Tiberius Gaul. How do you do?"
"Coriolanus Snow, and well, sir." Snow shakes his hand. "Dr. Gaul's brother, I presume?"
Tawny stops what she's doing when she hears Coriolanus ask the question, her eyes finding Tigris' as she asks, "Is my father speaking to your cousin?"
"Twin brother, actually." Tiberius nods, grinning. "You're General Crassus Snow's boy Strabo brags on just about any chance he gets." He adds.
Coriolanus puffs his chest up at the mention of it before he rests his hand at the small of Livia's back, stating, "Mr. Gaul, this is my wife, Livia."
"Hello, Mr. Gaul, it's a pleasure to meet you." She beams as she always had when meeting someone new.
"Dad," Tawny's stepping toward them, gently grasping her father's arm and pulling him away from Snow, "Can you help me with something in the kitchen real quick?"
"Is dinner ready yet, Tawny?" Her mother's stepping from the hallway, adorned in a deep green long-sleeved dress that fits to her body and stops at her calf muscles. "I'm famished and I need my wine."
She has to be at least fifteen years younger than Tiberius, less wrinkled and more lively than what he had expected.
Then her green eyes fall to Coriolanus.
"And who might you be?" She eyes him like a shark circling prey.
It makes him feel violated.
"Coriolanus Snow." He greets her the same as he had her husband, within milliseconds, Tawny is yanking her away from him before he can even introduce her to his wife.
"Mother, I need help in the kitchen." Tawny drags her while the woman pipes, "I'm Minerva, it's lovely to meet you!"
Tiberius has now struck up conversation with Tigris, though Tawny doesn't mind her father speaking to Tigris, she just hadn't wanted him to relive his glory days serving under Crassus Snow during the war, and take the late head of the Snow household's son down that memory lane.
She didn't know how well that would bode with Coriolanus.
"You know, if you would get Avoxes, Tawny, you wouldn't be running late. You'd have more help." Minerva informs her for the umpteenth time since this one visit.
"I don't want them in my house." She hisses back. "Dyess?!"
"Yes?" He calls back, moving between Snow and Livia to step to the kitchen.
"Is this finished?" She asks him, opening the oven.
"I don't know, Tawny." He huffs, eyeing the roast.
"Um…" Tigris takes it upon herself to grab the oven mit on the counter and lean down, pulling the rack out of the oven.
"Here." Tawny hands her a pair of tongs, to which she presses on the highest point of the roast and presses down a few times.
"It's about medium, now, Tawny." The blonde informs her.
"Oh, please, take it out. We'll already lose teeth trying to bite into that thing." Minerva grumbles.
"It's okay to take out, Tigris. Thank you very much." Tawny ignores her mother as Tigris lays the dish on the hotpad on the counter.
"Steak would have been more appropriate, as well. We aren't in the Dark Days anymore." Her mother continues as Dyess nods out a, "I told her and she didn't listen, Mrs. Gaul."
"Mini, roast is just fine." Tawny's father reigns his wife in, glancing at Dyess dismissively.
"Coriolanus and I prefer roast to Steak, anyway." Tigris assures her. "I'm certain the Plinths won't mind it, either."
"The Plinths can kick rocks." Tawny says under her breath, grabbing the stack of plates to go set the table.
"I can help with something," Livia surprisingly offers, she and Coriolanus having made their way to the kitchen to join everyone else.
"The wine." Minerva volunteers her, grabbing the corkscrew from the drawer.
Tawny leaves them, letting out a heavy breath in the peace of the dining room, a beat later, Snow joins her, his cousin's eyes following after him as he follows after Tawny.
"Can I do something?" Coriolanus' low voice doesn't startle Tawny, her lips rubbing together upon hearing it.
"You can stop looking at me." She replies, raising her brows.
"Looking at you?" He asks.
"Like you've seen me without clothes." She states, saying it so quietly it's nearly mouthed. "We said we wouldn't do this anymore."
"Me looking at you does not equate to me bending you over the table." He says in the same quiet tone, arguing.
"It makes me feel all the same so just stop ." It's a flustered confession as she lays a plate down, a confession that has his jaw clenching momentarily.
He wonders if she's going to screw Dyess tonight while thinking of him, or if she'll outright forgo Dyess altogether and bring herself pleasure with Coriolanus' name on her soft lips.
"Snow." She gripes through her teeth, her skin prickling under his intense, smug eyes.
A knock at the door pulls their sight from one another, she shoves the plates into his chest as she mutters, "That's your family," and goes to answer the front door.